


Random Drabbles: Caleb Dume and the Grey Sith

by dogmatix



Series: Random Drabbles [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Caleb is confused, GFY, Gen, Other Canon Characters - Freeform, Sith does not equal evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix
Summary: Caleb Dume discovers that stowing away to go on Seriously Dangerous Missions can be hazardous to your worldview.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed a little lightside/Grey Sith ficlet tonight.  
> FIclet draws heavily from the Citadel arc in The Clone Wars.

“Why are we here? I thought we were going to the Citadel? Master Billaba-“

“I explicitly told you to remain behind at the Temple,” Master Billaba said without anger, but with one raised eyebrow that broadcast her chastisement of her Padawan.

“Yes, Master.” Caleb’s shoulders sagged.  If being denied immediate answers was the most punishment he faced for disobeying his Master, he’d be getting off lightly. Not that Master Billaba was one for punishments, but stowing away to get himself included in the mission to one of the most dangerous places a Jedi could go was a little bit worse than talking out of turn in class.

Only they weren’t at the Citadel.  In fact, Caleb wasn’t sure _where_ they were. He drew his cloak more tightly around himself. Wherever it was, it was chilly.  The late afternoon sunlight cast red shadows all around them as a breeze tugged at his hair.

Commander Grey tiled his helmet up at the sky. “General, we have incoming.”

“I sense them,” Master Billaba said, eyes closed and face serene.  Looking at Caleb, she frowned a bit. “Caleb. These are our allies. I would have preferred to give you – and them – more warning before you met, but that is not to be. I know this will be difficult for you, but I ask that you trust me.”

“Master?”

She didn’t say anything else though, and a moment later, the small craft landed, wings swiveling up as it settled the last few meter onto the ground.  Well, it wasn’t _small_ , small, but it was only a three- or four- person craft, with maybe a bit of room left over for cargo.

The door opened with a pneumatic  hiss, swinging down to form a ramp. A tall figure, all in black, descended it, cloak rustling around them.  Caleb stared at the black face-mask, a chill working its way down his back. No way was this a normal Jedi.  He glanced down at the figure’s belt, where he could see the handle of a lightsaber peeking out.  They had to be a Jedi though, right?

“Lord Wraith, it is good to see you again.”

“And you as well, Master Billaba ,” came a deep, mechanically distorted voice.

Caleb felt his jaw drop as all the pieces slotted together. Master Billaba hadn’t called them ‘Darth,’ but she didn’t need to. This was a _Sith_. His hand flew to his lightsaber.

“No.” Master Billaba held his wrist in a tight but not painful grip, not letting him detach his lightsaber from his belt. “Caleb, stop. Even if they were a danger to us, you are no match for them.”

Caleb’s heart raced, his mind whirling with shock and questions. Wait. ‘ _Them?’_

“Who’s the squirt?” asked a second distorted voice, and another tall humanoid unfolded themself out of the shuttle.

“This is my padawan, Caleb Dume,” Master Billaba said, giving his wrist one last warning squeeze before letting go. “He’s been with me for about three months now. Caleb, this is Lord Wraith, Lord Krayt,” she nodded to the second Sith, “and Apprentice Fang,” she indicated a third figure coming down the ramp, this one wearing lots of layers and sporting a hood that had two points, one on either side of their head. The first two were human or near-human and probably male, the third was probably a Togruta, and that was all Caleb could really be certain of.

“Yo.” Fang waved.

“You didn’t say you were bringing him. Is everything all right?” Wraith asked.

“I didn’t intend to bring him,” Master Billaba said with a put-upon sigh and an eye-roll.  “He stowed away.”

“Students can be like that,” Wraith said, amusement clear even through the distortion.

“What is going _on_?” Caleb burst out, the shock finally wearing off. “Those are _Sith_!” He stabbed one accusatory finger at the three black-clad figures. They had to be Sith. No Jedi went around being called ‘Lord,’ and why else all the secrecy?

“Does he always jump to conclusions?” Krayt asked.

“He’s not wrong, though.” Fang shrugged.

“Master-!” Caleb looked at his Master pleadingly.

Seeing his very real distress, Depa put one hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “There is more than one lineage of Sith in the galaxy, and these are not our enemies. I owe Lord Wraith a debt of gratitude – he helped me when I was losing my way on Haruun Kal.”

Caleb glanced at the three imposing figures. “But…”

“And I called them here…because I need to ask a favour of them.” She turned and faced Wraith. “It is a dangerous favour. I would not ask it if times were not desperate.”

Wraith inclined his head. “Ask, Master Billaba .”

“Master Evan Piell has been captured. Sadly, if that were the only consideration, I do not think we could spare the resources for a rescue attempt.  However, he has valuable information that the Separatists must not be allowed to possess.  He is being held at the Citadel.”

“The Force prison?” Fang interjected.

“Yes,” Master Billaba inclined her head.

Krayt shifted. “And you want _us_ to break into it for you, grab this other Jedi – who doesn’t know about us – and break back _out_? Just to clarify.”

“I had hoped you might accompany myself and my troops, but that is essentially correct.”

The three Sith looked at each other. The moment dragged on, then Krayt shrugged and Fang nodded.  Caleb realized they were probably discussing it on a private channel.  Caleb glanced over at Commander Grey. “You knew about this,” he said, quiet but accusatory.

“Yep.”

Caleb glared at Commander Grey, but the clone had his helmet on, making it a wasted effort.

“I ordered them not to say anything to you,” Master Billaba said, shooting a look at Caleb.

He subsided unhappily.

Wraith turned back to them, the private discussion apparently over. “We’ll help you.”

Caleb managed to keep his mouth shut, but only just. He was confused and upset and this was going to be the worst mission ever, he just knew it. Why hadn’t he stayed back at the Temple?

* * *

  
Talking things over with Master Billaba helped some, but they didn’t have much time alone to talk, and the once they reached the Citadel there wasn’t time for anything but the mission.

Caleb was still intensely conflicted. The Citadel was made to hold Jedi, and as such the Force there was prickly and muted.  He didn’t know if it was cause or consequence, but it made using the Force just a bit more difficult than normal, and the closer they got to the actual prison, the worse it got.

The Sith seemed to have no such trouble.  In fact, they seemed to be in their element, like this was some kind of fun outing to them. Krayt was the one who Force-grabbed Captain Styles when the wind dislodged the clone from the sheer rock face they were scaling.

Things got even more complicated when they found out they had to rescue Captain Tarkin as well. There was a quick round of discussion on a private channel, and it was decided that Fang could more easily pass as a Jedi padawan to Tarkin, so after the second rescue, Caleb and Fang, along with some troops and Tarkin, split up to make their way back to the ship, while Wraith and Krayt disappeared into the prison to cause as much havoc as they could.

Fang set the voice modulator to cut down on the distortion, so that Tarkin would be less likely to ask awkward questions. Caleb wondered if that was the Apprentice’s actual voice. If so, then they – he? – was probably about Caleb’s own age or a bit older.

There was only one more hitch in the plan – the hunting pack and droids sent after them.  Caleb and Fang hung back to take care of their canine pursuers.

He’d almost started to like the Sith Apprentice. Seeing how effective Fang and the other two were, how quick Krayt was to save Styles’ life, Caleb had started to forget his initial shock and horror.

Fang let out an eager laugh, and in the Force a sense of hungry, impatient bloodthirst itched at Caleb. He stopped cold, staring at Fang, and then the animals were upon them.   Caleb managed to get his lightsaber up, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he did little more than stop them from eating him.  Fang, on the other hand, seemed to glory in driving their lightsaber through one canine’s chest, then twirled to take the head off a second before twisting out of the way of a third only to grab it by the ear and pull hard enough to make the canine yelp and growl as it skewed around to try and get Fang, but the Apprentice already had their lightsaber ready and decapitated the third one as well.

Caleb lost track of Fang at that point. Distracted by the Sith’s prowess, Caleb stopped paying attention to his own opponent for a crucial second and went down with a strangled yell, losing his lightsaber in the process.   Having to be saved by a Sith was not something Caleb was happy about, and he pushed Fang’s offered hand  away, struggling upright on his own and still flushed with embarrassment.

“Go on, you should get back to your Master,” Fang said, voice cool and even.

“R-right,” Caleb turned and had taken two steps before it registered. “Wait. Aren’t you coming?”

“Can’t. Master Piell would know I’m not a Jedi.”

“But. But you can’t stay here,” Caleb said, his shame forgotten for the moment.

“We’ll find out own way out, don’t worry,” Fang’s voice warmed a bit. “It’s not like I’m alone.”

“Oh. Right.”  Caleb waffled, torn.  He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. This was still a Sith, something he’d just had rubbed in his face, but Fang had also helped him. It felt wrong to leave someone who was probably an ally, if an uncomfortable one, stranded on a prison planet.

“ _Go_ , or you’ll be stuck with us for another week,” Fang said, amused.

Blushing, Caleb turned and ran.

* * *

  
  
“Master?” Caleb asked. They finally had some privacy, all the immediate post-mission stuff done.

“Let me guess. You have questions?”

Caleb ducked his head. “Will they be okay?”

“You mean Wraith and the others?”

Caleb nodded.

“Yes, I’m sure they will be.” She reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll let you know when I get word.”

“Thank you, Master.” He fidgeted. “I..I also have some other questions.”   Boy did he ever. How could Sith be good? _Were_ Fang and the rest good? What about Dooku?  What about the Dark side? Didn’t that corrupt people? How could Master Billaba know that these Sith weren’t working with the other Sith? And that was just to start with.

“I thought you might,” she said, but she was smiling. “All right, I suppose I have to earn my keep too. Ask, padawan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, those were Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Ahsoka. Obi-Wan is sir-not-appearing-in-this-fic. Qui-Gon’s Sith name I pulled from our Balance series. Anakin’s is pretty self-explanatory(krayt dragon, native to tatooine), and Ahsoka because she wears those akul teeth. They don’t take their Sith names super seriously or anything - it’s just so that they can keep their identities hidden.


End file.
